


breathe

by evaneddie



Series: dhylen writes one shots [39]
Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: F/M, angst with happy ending, fire rescue, marjan calls mateo an idiot in arabic cuz thats funny, mateo has to save an eight year old girl and risks his life doing so, none of the team are happy about it, owen is a dad to the entire team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:34:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23244103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evaneddie/pseuds/evaneddie
Summary: mateo gets trapped inside a building during a call after he went back inside to rescue a child, and the whole team is worried, marjan especially
Relationships: Mateo Chavez/Marjan Marwani (9-1-1 Lone Star)
Series: dhylen writes one shots [39]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1433956
Comments: 8
Kudos: 47





	breathe

**Author's Note:**

> should i really be writing fics right now even though i have a novel to continue? no. am i doing it anyways? fuck yes. please enjoy. lemme know what you thought :) or not lol
> 
> prompt from lovelessmotel on tumblr:
> 
> marjeo prompt: theres a bad call where mateo almost dies and the whole team is worried but once its certain that hes okay marjan is running up to him cupping his face and so worried and just trying to make sure hes okay.

"Probie, come in," she begs once more, somehow managing to control her voice enough so that it doesn't audibly crack like she knows it wants to. The radio only speaks static back to her, no sign of the trapped firefighter attempting to contact the team.

"Please, talk to me, 'Teo." Not a single thread of her body or fibre of her mind can give a care about the odd looks she can feel from the team, perforating her coat and seeping hotly into her flesh underneath. 

Owen is to her right, looking at her panic, watching as she clicks the button on the walkie, trying to get a response. Her hands shake lightly, trembling in fear, adrenaline starting to wear off now that she's no longer moving around. Then, he's pressing his own, talking into it. "Firefighter Chavez, do you copy?"

Silence. Just dead silence. 

Marjan inhales deeply, trying to calm herself by mentally repeating that just because he isn't answering, doesn't mean he's hurt. With the avalanche of the top half of the building collapsing in, raining rubble down on him, maybe his radio was hit, breaking it in the process. It wouldn't be the first time one of the team had become unreachable while trapped alone during a rescue. But something about this one hits her differently, and she knows it, knows exactly why it makes her heart ache in a dissimilar way. 

The last time she checked, he was right behind her, rushing out with an eight year old girl in his arms, while Marjan helped the father of said girl. If only she had looked back one more time, had noticed the dangers that had stared them in the face, waiting for the right moment to strike. Maybe things would be different if she had paid more attention to her surroundings, being more observant instead of letting her guard down. Waiting until they were fully clear would have been the best course of action in regards to letting the tension fall from her shoulders.

But she didn't wait, she didn't focus her attention on the building around them, only having a tunnel vision to get out of there as soon as possible.

Now he's trapped inside - her best friend, her co-worker that she considers family, the guy she likes a little more than she knows she should - and it's all her fault. 

"Talk to me!" she yells into the receiver, her voice bordering on manic. It isn't a sound she likes very much, in fact, she hates it, hates how desperate she sounds. But if it somehow gets Mateo responding, she could easily forget it all.

Tears threaten to spill from her eyes, burning at the edges, clamping her throat tighter. Refusal is all she can give right now, refusal of letting herself cry, refusal to believe that Mateo isn't okay, refusal to give up until she gets him back safely. In her arms, preferably, but that's not a requisite. What she would give for that to happen, though, is basically everything she has.

It's dumb, she knows, she tells herself that all the time. But she can't help it, no matter how hard she tries. Oh, has she tried. So hard. So often. Nothing works to rid her thoughts of him, however, and it's come to the point where she's stopped trying and just accepted it, not planning to act on it. 

Eyes scan the apartment complex, looking, intensely searching for another access point so the team can get inside to help the two people still in there. The ones trapped behind the rubble of the burning debris. Standing back and waiting is not something she was ever good at, and she knows the moment she can see a way in, there is no force strong enough to stop her. Not a single thing on Earth. Everything on the outside of the pieces of the walls still standing is charred charcoal and still lit with the lick of orange and red flames, a small amount of blue mixed in, too.

TK, Judd, and Paul all work alongside two other rigs from stations around town, blasting their hoses to put out as much of the fire as possible. Even from where she's standing, a good while away, she can see the worry etched onto their faces, making her panic rise significantly more. If they're worried too, it can't be good.

"Cap!" she calls to Owen loudly over the roar or gushing water, blaring sirens, and chatter of everyone around her. "How about up there?" Pointing to a window mostly untouched by the fire, she adds, "fourth floor."

It looks like the only way in. Still, that in itself would be a dangerous trek. From the bitumen outside, she can see the billowing smoke coming through the windows and out into the evening air.

Without any of this happening, tonight would be a beautiful night. The sky is littered with thousands of glowing orbs, twinkling lightly, only now being slightly drowned out from the light of the flames and clouds of smoke. 

"Too risky, Marjan." Owen's response is sturdy, not a hint of anxiety in his tone, and she wonders how he can hold himself together so well in moments like these. The way he puts on his Captain hat on - figuratively - and is able to give orders, helping keep his team calm, is beyond her. Sure she's been good at keeping her image up as a badass, which she is, but something like this, with one of their own? Not something she can stay calm about.

Especially not with Mateo.

"I don't care, I'm going in. You can either help me, or I go in alone without assistance. Either way, it's happening." Yeah, she probably shouldn't be speaking to her boss like this, and not just her boss but someone she considers a close friend. It just comes out, verbal diarrhoea, before she can stop it.

"Marwani, don't even think about it. Two things. Don't ever," he starts, glowering his eyes at her, pausing for emphasis, "ever talk to me like that again. I am your superior. Secondly, we need to think this through, we can't just go in head first without a plan. That's not how we roll."

By the time he gets to his second point, he's dropped all his anger towards her, softening around the edges.

"Sorry, Cap. I just can't stand around, waiting. I need to help him, I can't-" she cuts herself off, not ready to spill her deepest secrets to her boss right here in front of an emergency. "We can't lose him, he's our family."

Mulling it over for a short moment, he sighs, rubbing a weathered hand over his exasperated face, because he knows she will not give in, and will do anything it takes. "Fine, but we go in together."

* * *

A violent cough forces its way out of his lungs as he regains consciousness. Everything in his ribcage hurts, aches like he's been savagely beaten. Which in a way, he guesses, he kind of has. It's unclear how much damage has been done to his body from the collapsed floor above him, but he can move enough to not raise any red flags. Nothing appears to be broken, probably just severely bruised. 

He doesn't even have a second thought when it comes to making sure the little girl is okay. Her tiny body is covered in soot, and trapped underneath his arm that happens to be protectively slung over her. 

"Sophie," he somehow is able to choke out, trying to get the eight year old's attention. Brown eyes blown wide, she looks at him with a sad face, tears streaked down her chubby little cheeks, and Mateo's heart breaks, hoping that he hasn't hurt her. It's likely when the collapse happened that he could have landed on her fragile form and done some serious harm.

Weakly, she coughs, the sound deep and rattling. Looking to the right of her head, he sees the mask he had given her earlier, destroyed beyond repair. Shit.

With the ease that he is breathing, he knows that without checking it over visually, his is still in good working order. So he does what any firefighter would do, what any person with a good heart would do. He takes the mask off his fake and places it on Sophie's.

"We need to find a way out of here. Can you stand?" he asks her, silently praying to every diety that she is unharmed.

A small nod comes from her head, and she stands slowly, as does Mateo himself.

The heat is damn near unbearable, even in his gear, and he takes notice that Sophie is only wearing her pyjamas and must be really feeling it. The mask she wears covering her mouth and nose is connected to the oxygen tank on his back, and he carefully lifts her up to his chest, and she silently wraps her legs around his midsection.

"You hold on tight, okay? I'm going to get us out of here." As tightly as he can, he wraps his fire retardant coat around her frame, and thankfully she is small enough that he is able to do it up around her. 

He can't hear anything over the roar of flames, he can't hear if the team is calling out to him, though he hopes they are. He hopes they're looking for him, him and Sophie.

Only able to see one way through the thick smoke, he heads in the direction of what looks to be possibly the laundry room. Hopefully he can escape through a window there.

Every moment he spends inside the building, it gets harder for him to breathe, his lungs being coated with the thick blanket in the air. Trying to keep from coughing as much as he can, he places one arm around Sophie's back to keep her in place.

When he reaches the laundry room, the air is too thick to tell if he can escape this way, and he curses lowly under his breath. He really has no idea how they're going to get out. 

The walkie on his chest had been smashed to pieces in the fall, so he can't contact anyone outside. Making noise wouldn't be helpful either, nothing he would be able to do would be loud enough to be heard.

Shit, shit, shit.

Turning on his heel, he scans the room to the best of his ability. Given the low visibility and his small headlamp, not much can be seen. He does, however, notice a staircase to the right of the laundry room, untouched by the fire, but still filled with smoke. He takes the risk, he doesn't have a choice.

His free hand waves in front of his face, a poor shot to clear the tainted air from his nostrils. Coughing harshly again, he continues on. It must be a service stairwell, not a main one that residents can use on the daily. It's very narrow, and he steps precariously onward and upward. 

He's not even sure how far up he should be going.

The fire originated on the second floor, so at least he knows that one is out. The first floor is out too, the ground had given way above his head earlier, only leaving the third and the fourth floor.

He and Marjan had searched them and gotten everyone out of the building.

Weak. That's how every muscle in his body feels, weak and tired. They've been overexerted and he's about ready to fall to the ground and call it a night. Calling it a night means giving up, giving up means he won't be able to get this little girl back into the loving arms of her father where she belongs. He can't give up. He won't.

The last few steps he takes are treacherous, his calves calling out to him in protest, begging him to stop. But he refuses. The intake of oxygen into his lungs is very compromised, and soon he won't be able to breathe at all.

Pushing past the pain and the exhaustion, he makes it to the third floor just as he hears a noise to his left. At first he fears that the building is about to collapse in on itself again, but then he hears a voice. Faint and loud all at the same time. It's a shout, a call for attention, but through the smoke, it seems so far away. Or maybe it's because his brain isn't getting enough clean air.

Both Marjan and Owen are immediately at either side of his body, both wrapping arms around him to guide him towards the last flight of stairs. 

This is it, it's finally over. He's getting Sophie out of here alive and well, and then he can sleep. Sleep all of his worries and pains away.

"Come on, 'Teo. Just a few more steps, we got you," enters Marjan's voice through the haze of his head.

"We got you, kid," Owen reassures.

He doesn't know how he manages to stay awake and alert long enough to get to the ambulance, but he does. One of them flicks on it's lights and sirens after putting Sophie on a stretcher and having her dad climb in with her.

From what he had gathered, she was going to make a full recovery, but because of her age and inability to refuse medical treatment - like Mateo - they head to the hospital. He makes a memtal note to check in on her after the night is through and morning comes around.

Surely he'd forget though, with the stress of everything invading his thoughts, plaguing his mind. If he makes it through the night. He feels like he won't, that his body is just so tired to it's going to shut down on him, but deep down he knows that's an overexaggeration. He's going to be okay, he's just drained. And sore, oh very sore.

He's grateful Marjan stays by his side as the nebulised albuterol gas hisses into his face mask and out the sides with a smoky white hue to it. 

Once the fire has been contained and practically put out, the rest of the team eush over to see him, to see that he's doing alright.

"Hey, brother," greets TK, accompanied by Judd, Paul, and Owen. 

Mateo gives a strained smile in return, not trusting his voice right now.

"Michelle, how's he doing?" Owen asks the paramedic captain.

She rubs a soothing hand slowly across the surface of his back, and he all but melts into it. It helps stimulate blood flow to his lungs, helps loosen the taught muscles, and soothes the bruising. "He's very lucky. No esophageal burns, no broken bones, barely any scrapes. It's just mild - again, mild, by some miracle - smoke inhalation. Our boy here is tough."

"Yeah he is," Judd laughs heartily, clapping a hand on Mateo's shoulder.

"Really had us worried there, Probes." Paul's face is scrunched, but soft with relief that their youngest member is okay.

He's okay.

Mateo needs to keep telling himself that while he focuses on his breathing; in deeply, hold for three seconds, and let it out as slowly as he takes it in. It's a boring process, but it helps.

"Sorry," Mateo croaks out, causing his chest to heave with sharp coughs, calming after just a moment.

"We're gonna go clean up, kid. Marjan will stay here with you. Glad you're okay." Owen gives the two of them a small nod of his head before leading the guys away.

A soft smile sweeps over Marjan's face as she takes a seat next to him on the bumper of the ambulance. At some point, Michelle decides she doesn't need to be around for whatever it looks like Marjan is about to stay, and steps off the vehicle onto the pavement, walking to the front of it, out of earshot.

"What the hell were you thinking? Not wearing a mask, are you crazy? You could have gotten yourself killed!" She seems mad, and he doesn't like that. He doesn't like that he's upset her in some way, but he didn't really ask for any of it to happen.

And he definitely didn't ask to start catching feelings for her.

Seeing Marjan unscathed, sitting next to him, puts a soft smile on his face. She's fine, Sophie is fine, and that is all that matters.

Looking into her eyes, he shrugs. "Hers broke," he starts, his throat catching, ripping another cough from his lungs, slamming his diaphragm in ways that hurt more than they should. "Besides, how is this my fault? The stupid building collapsed."

Then she's standing again, one hand furiously rubbing at her face, the other on her hip. She's speaking so fast that even if it were in English, he probably wouldn't be able to keep up. He catches a few words here and there, not knowing anything about what their translation could mean.

"Woah, I think I understood like three words of that." Stifling yet another cough, he's staring up at her, watching her frustration slowly seep away.

"Not unless you know Arabic."

He laughs shortly. "Arabic, huh? Must have been pretty concerned about me to be cursing me out in another language."

Scoffing at his words, she rolls her eyes. "What? No. I knew you were going to be okay." She seems so sure of that sentence.

"Oh, yeah? Why's that?" 

"Because I was coming to your rescue, and I'm really good at what I do." There's a hint of teasing in her words, even if she does mean them. She really is damn good at her job, and it's one of the many things he loves about her.

"Okay, you keep telling yourself that," he retorts, laughing harder than the last time. She doesn't need her ego fed any more than it already is. He wheezes harshly, his throat barking with the cough.

"Stop talking and just breathe, dumbass," she tells him, concern in her eyes as she speaks.

"Do you hate me? You seem pretty mad." Disgusting, he sounds like a child that's just accidentally upset their crush on the school playground.

But his words turn into a coughing fit, and she places a steady hand on his arm, ensuring him that she's right there. "What did I say about talking? You never shut up, do you?"

He shakes his head no and gives a simple word answer. "Nope."

Of course, his lungs burn again, and he can't hold it in. The hacking sounds he makes is just as bad as how it feels. His insides feel like they're tearing apart, ripping fibre by fibre.

"I said stop talking. No, 'Teo. I don't hate you. Quite the opposite, actually." Her hand hasn't stopped it smooth circles on his bicep, and she gives a gentle squeeze to emphasise her words. 

The opposite? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

"Ooh, Marjan has a soft side," he teases with a smirk, only coughing slightly towards the end.

She mumbles, speaking words he can't quite hear. "You can't keep quiet for ten minutes can you?"

The question seems rhetorical, so he doesn't put the energy into giving her a response, and she doesn't seem to want to wait for one either. Because her hand falls from his arm and reaches for his oxygen mask, pulling it outward and to the side. Her face is mere inches from his by the time he realises what is happening, and she pauses there, for barely two seconds, as if giving him the chance to back away. But he doesn't. He just sits there, staring into her beautiful eyes until she closes the distance, both their eyes then closing at the same time.

It's a whisper of a kiss, a promise for something more in the future, but not right now. The sensation leaves his entire body tingling and wanting more, but he can not breathe properly, so it's not the best idea.

Her mouth is soft against his, like silk, but better, because it's her. It's the woman he's been crazy about for as long as he can remember. Each day his feelings had only been becoming more intense, and undeniable. Puckering his lips just slightly, he lets her know that he wants this too, just like she does. Then they're smiling into it and pulling apart, for her to place the mask gently back in place.

So that's what she meant. Not what he was expecting, but he is not complaining in the slightest.

"Now, please be quiet, because there is more where that came from if you do." She takes his hand in hers, winding her fingers between his and taking her place next to him on the back of the ambulance again.

Resting his tired head on her shoulder, smiles under the mask to himself. He feels Marjan place a tender kiss to the top of his head, clearly not caring that probably smells of sweat and smoke.

**Author's Note:**

> marjeo spotify playlist:
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0AOa8VK52Av02k0yjodKIi?si=xMn5Qi14T2KPUDZek3-59w


End file.
